Andrew Danso

This is a release completely paying tribute to Mark Giltrow, who died in 2006, and was best known in the metal world to be the brains behind Primary Slave. He actually had all of this material ready for the final cut, before his untimely death, and since then, the band have endeavoured to put together an album spanning all of his ideas which he left behind. There’s a difficulty with this kind of record being released as commodity, alongside a tribute. With the upmost respect, time will truly tell how much Giltrow actually is Primary Slave, and if the band will go onto survive without him.

Obstacles aside, it’s difficult to know where this material stands in an album that has tunes polished and ready for the market, along with some other tracks bare boned in comparison, as if they were still lurking around the demo stage. It makes for a fractured experience; you no doubt realise the sheer scope of Primary Slaves production on the fully fleshed numbers “Powdered”, “Defiled”, “Eyes Feel Free”, and on the other hand “The Game” and “C.R.E.A.M.” feel sparse because of their rawness.

What got everybody's goat on Primary Slaves previous, “Data Plague”, was defining them in a single buzzword, and to their credit, it’s still difficult today. There’s an industrial harshness about “Another Mark Is Drawn”. It feels metallic and cold through its production, and it’s driven by the ‘chorus-effect’ vocal, similar to Sonny Sandoval’s early work in P.O.D. Crucially though, there’s a commercial entity throughout, like a handful of the more computer based Fear Factory stuff (think Transgression), late White Zombie, and dashes of Alabama Three.

Yet, this isn’t an album that’ll be remembered for anything blistering on the disc, but it should stick for Giltrow’s own musical accessibility – the fact that five years on, his three brothers who are part of Primary Slave, are able to resurrect the project, owes much to Giltrow’s own vivid musical imagination. Even if he’s not present, finding a path for his ideas is something everyone should be able to discover.

7/10 Powerplay issue #142

Is this meant to be funny? Already we’re off to a bad start, but this is a bizarre formula. “Discoteque Tranny” translates to what I can assume to be ‘Tranny Disco’, as in ‘Transsexual Disco’. So is the emphasis on undercut teenage humour? The kind of stuff Bloodhound Gang grew famous (or infamous) for in the late 90s, with the release of “Hooray for Boobies”? Sorry for the puzzlement, but it goes a long way in explaining just how a bands identity, built through album promo, press release notes, art, and a no-less spectacular name, Hayley’s Royal Whores, can get far and away lost in music, which lo and behold, isn’t even teetering on the edge of laughter.

For weight of argument, comedy, and especially rock music, isn’t necessarily easy to pull off. Even Devin Townsend recently wrote about the humour littered across his multitude of work, that it was something he would be looking to “avoid” because it “didn’t have the desired effect” in the context of his metal. Not that Hayley’s Royal Whores are a metal band by any stretch of the imagination, nor do they have the kind of production tools behind them which Mr Townsend employs, but it demonstrates a gravitas to the problems comedy and rock based music usually wrestle with. Tim Minchin can do it with a piano, Bill Bailey with the Theremin, Tenacious D in the rock opera sphere, but bare boned rock comedy? It’s a dead art.

So if this isn’t funny, what’s it got going for it? Not much. It’s an album written in a pop-rock sensibility, residing with the likes Blink 182, Weezer, and Bloodhound Gang. The bands previous efforts came by way of goth rock projects, and it’s easy to hear passages laden in synth work, The Birthday Massacre would be proud of. The vocal throughout is weak, and under-performed, along with the records production being precariously flat, for a band that seek to move you enough to laugh. Perhaps “Discoteque Tranny’s” B-lined, B movie construction is part of the gag.

You’re left wondering if the joke’s on the critic? Their surnames have even been altered with comedic intentions (let’s see if you laugh): Pasi ‘Crash’, Teukka Von ‘Terror’, Teme ‘Schnaps’, and Kuha ‘Spears’. I’ll hold my hands up. I really don’t get it.

3/10 Powerplay issue #142

What’s the point in doing In Flames when In Flames can do themselves just fine? It’s the age-old copycat train of thought, but in Synasthasia’s case, they’ve had to start somewhere. A common theme spanning through bands starting up, is to perfect their craft on whatever’s inspired them to pick an instrument up in the first place. What comes next is usually what matters, when they finally find their feet on the second project.

“Style Collector” isn’t so much a collection of ideas, but the expression of one singular vision - that being a late sounding In Flames. To their credit, with whatever budget that’s been gathered, they’ve put together a decent sounding production, that does show off their talents reasonably well, considering the genre we’re bashing around in. There’s a few good riffs in here too, and the occasional vocal splattered on top, does help to give the tracks a decent hook when the choruses fire up. Then again, it’s nothing we’re writing home about; this exists inside of an exhausted genre because of its commercial appeal, which lifts much more from the pop charts than it does invent ideas of its own. A patronising, yet fitting ‘promising’, underlines this debut.

5/10 Powerplay issue #142

Metal and 80s nostalgists seem to be living on forever, evident in Crimson Cult, the latest sounding leather wearers drenched in guitar licks and raspy vocal performances, you no doubt became enchanted with when you were an awkward, angsty teen. But that’s just the problem, this is an album satirically withheld in a period over three decades old. For any other genre, it’s labelled resurgence; but in metal it’s still considered a ‘tribute’ to bawdy traditions. And yet, to think that the tradition of your droning teenage life probably inspired you to the edgy metal plains of 1980... building tradition within a period seems, well, very un-metal.

So what about the actual music? Graze around the plains of Megadeth’s “Rust In Peace”, Metallica’s “Ride The Lightening”, some late Iron Maiden thrashing, and there you have “Tales of Doom”, albeit a much lesser concoction than that great list. Opener “State of Fear” chugs along similar to Megadeth’s “Holy Wars” with a Bruce Dickinson (Iron Maiden) inspired vocal slapped on top. It’s a performance that is acceptable at best, but clumsy most of the time, not through its tonality, but through the sheer amount of syllables vocalist Walter Stüfer wants to get in on top of the riff. In microcosm this is how the remaining album plays out, sticking thoroughly by the old school, and clumsily wrecking its head on 80s technicalities. Some fresh ideas, please.

5/10 Powerplay issue #142

It’s actually not as easy as you’d think to dismiss a band that purposefully sound so ugly, and so disorientated - that despite every inch of your body telling you to stop it, you refuse to press that square shaped stop button. Hardcore bands never get away from their fascination with challenging an audience, and to their credit Biipiigwan really do give it a go, droning on and on with angry riffing, engaged in making as upsetting an atmosphere as possible, perhaps outside of an actual riot. It probably is trash, but if it’s intentions are to simply rattle a few rubbish bins until they fall apart, “God’s Hooks” does the job.

Fitting it all into a genre is a stormy teacup, but apart from its laboured thrash sections, it’s easier to stamp it all in hardcore. These Canadians go a lot like As We Fight, or The Pyske Project, romping along fearlessly on their guitars and consistently belching vocals, inaudible to the ear. It’s all been put together as a kind of sonic assault, to get wrapped up in, than something for your mind to wrestle with consciously.

But that’s just the problem: If you’re not within the moment, it all sounds like a jumbled repetitive mess. It’s ordinarily hardcore, and sparks up the whole heart versus brain debate, which Biipiigwan really ought to find more balance within, than siding completely for the big old heart. If you’re listening, take a step back and refresh your sonic perspective – you’ll likely loose interest. It’s a shame these blokes haven’t done the same.

5/10 Powerplay issue #142